by E. N. Abel
Chapter 81
Moon Orbit
Friday, 18.11.2016
The next morning brought reassurance for Marlene. A soft touch woke her up, and a manly hand held a mug into her view-field. She sleepily registered that the alcoholic stench was gone, just a smell of coffee hanging in the air. Next she heard a lovingly spoken ''Morning!'' and a mug was pressed into her hand. She sat up, leaned against the bunk's head. With this movement the blanket slid off her and bared her breasts. Her first impulse was to cover herself again, but then she let it be, curious about his reaction.
Mike seated himself on the bed's edge, reached out and stroked her cheek with a gentle touch: ''Now, Marlene, what do we make of this?''
Marlene took a sip to temporize, and she tasted ... a perfect cappuccino even with the correct amount of sugar. This made her smile: ''Thank you.'' Then, turning more serious, she added: ''I would like to be with you.''
''Just like that?''
''Just like that.''
''For now, a while, forever?''
She smiled: ''Let's see what happens.'' Then she swallowed hard and looked down. ''I feel horrible saying this.''
''You mean: Ellie is not yet cold and you already slip into my bed.''
''Yes. It sounds absolutely awful.'' Hesitating and searching for his eyes, she added: ''Do you think it could work out?''
Mike sighed deeply, then nodded: ''Maybe ... it might.'' He remained silent for a while, then said with a breathy voice: ''Ellie has been dead for a week only. She was the love of my life and I will need some time. Time to learn to cope with the loss - I'm sure you understand. You think you can manage that?''
Marlene put her hand on his arm: ''I don't know, but I'll do my very best. I know you still love Ellie.''
''Yes, but she's dead and you are alive.''
Marlene was taken aback: ''A cold way to see it, don't you think?''
''True. It's cold, cruel, and helplessly watching her being gunned down is traumatic. But if you think it over, you will see: it's the only way. Honour and remembrance for the dead, love and care for the living.''
''Wow, no mourning? Where do you get such an attitude?''
''In the trenches of a war-torn country.'' He recognised the uneasiness in her look, took her hand to comfort her. ''And who said anything about not mourning? We've seen a hundred ways of mourning the dead.'' He paused shortly, looked at Marlene. ''Please don't think I'm abandoning my beloved wife so fast, throwing her away to get my hands on a new bed-mate. But if you had to live through what I - and my team - had to, you would see things differently, become different. Ellie will continue to live deep inside me, where nobody can hurt her again. She will never leave me, but she can also never come back to the living. Coming from where she was born, she totally understood this. Like my fallen comrades.''
''Life goes on? Is that it?''
''From your understanding of the world: yes. A rather different life, though.''
A long moment of silence lingered heavily between them. Unaccustomed to such dire thoughts, Marlene understood nonetheless: she had to decide. And decided for the living. She set upright: ''When do you have to go on duty?''
''In forty minutes.''
''That,'' she smiled wickedly, ''my Captain, is time enough.'' And she pulled him towards her, into the bed.
Chapter 82
Moon Orbit
Friday, 18.11.2016
When a slightly hung over looking Marlene entered her sick bay, Margaret quickly suppressed a smile and looked down. She had a very good idea why her patient felt this way - it was probably from Mike's alcoholic breath ... condensed in that small cubicle called the Captain's Quarters ...
''How was it?'' she asked, sounding neutral.
The young woman dropped heavily into a chair, took a deep breath and replied: ''I'm glad I didn't know while Ellie was alive.'' That caused raised eyebrows. Marlene looked at the woman opposite and added: ''I would have envied her every night.''
''That good?''
This was answered with a short nod.
''Well, looks like the chemistry is working. Okay, ready to roll?''
Again the wordless nod.
''You know, you don't have to do this ...''
''See, I now understand much better what you were trying to tell me last time. About that thing of honour.'' Marlene was clearly agitated. ''And I understand now, that Mike will never drop me, if he discovers our little secret. For him that would be a question of honour, no matter if he loved me or not.'' She paused shortly. ''All my life I've thought that soldiers and the military as a whole were something sinister, violent, dark. I grew up in a family of US democrats, highly educated people, and convinced humanitarians, pacifists. Violence was an absolute no-go, guns a horror.'' Again she paused, taking a deep breath. ''Now I'm surrounded by a war-torn crew that has seen combat at its ugliest. People who use a pistol like I use a spoon, a bomb like I use a basketball. Someone shoots a nuclear missile at them and - they don't scare, just fend it off - and then launch and carry out a counter-attack! On a superpower!
''And instead of the bunch of hyper-aggressive lunatics you would expect, I am now confronted with a crew of highly motivated and dedicated people. Caring people, protecting their own kind with all the might and wit they can muster. Then one of them loses his wife. And you step in, preparing a present to comfort him. A present like no king nor emperor has ever received. Just to ease his pain.'' She took another deep breath. ''I might not have your training or share your experiences, but count me in. I want to be in, whatever the cost.''
That moment Margaret realised that there was more than one way to bond ... ''OK, dear, let's proceed.'' She pointed to the examination table. ''The IVF has already been readied, the cell cluster is growing and within normal parameters. I don't have the equipment to do a non-invasive genetic analysis, but to me it looks as healthy as it can be. All you need now is a little hormone push; but before that we'll need to check your womb out - a final examination.''
Without further comment Marlene took off her slip, climbed onto the table, positioned her legs in the mounted rests. When Marlene inserted the spectroscope into her she said: ''If I die, will you do the same for me?''
''Yes,'' Margaret replied at once, with breathy voice. ''As for any of us.''
Chapter 83
Beijing
Friday, 18.11.2016
Xao was standing on his balcony, smoking a cigarette in comfort. He enjoyed these moments of leisure, on this gallery, rare as they were. Of course the work never left him, not here, not at home. As it was now, full of thoughts he looked up at the rising Moon. It was beginning to decrescent again, but there, high over its north pole, a new star was visible: golden and brilliant. A reminder of what mankind can achieve, as some saw it, or a memorial of the great humiliation to his people, as others viewed it. Which, he asked himself, counted more?
CERN's press release earlier today had raised the veil and called a spade a spade, so now every interested party knew who was behind the current events. He had ordered a standard verification process on each and everyone on that list, of course, but privately he believed CERN's revelations to be genuine. A bunch of kids, a handful of bright young people from all over the world. But damn, that little group of crazies had showed them! Kicked the door to space wide open. Interplanetary travel not only made feasible, but outright simple. In ten, twenty years ...
He heard Feng Chin approach silently, stopping behind him, waiting in patience. A few moments passed.
''You think we did the right thing?'' Xao suddenly asked his adjutant.
''By sending Chan? Absolutely.''
''Tell me why.''
''She's the most brilliant mind I've ever met. And, here, on Earth, her brilliance would be lost in our petty rows. Out there,'' he nodded towards the Moon, ''she can do so much more for mankind than just crack codes.''
''Speaking of?''
''Yes, we do have a trail. Before she left, Chan decoded an intercepted secure fax
transmission from the American resident in Geneva to Langley, at least in parts. It contained three keywords of the canary trap.''
''Not enough,'' Xao grumbled, ''we need four to be sure, but it's ...''
''... narrowing it down nicely,'' the adjutant finished.
''Yes. And yes, you are right.'' Xao, turned, smiled.
''About Chan?''
''She deserves better. Send the file.''
Chapter 84
Moon Orbit
Friday, 18.11.2016
Again Chan found herself in the galley, this time with the Captain and a slim, blonde woman with short hair, serene face and a cold aura. Again a cup was in front of her, filled with a by all means drinkable cappuccino. The Captain had served it personally and gotten the woman and himself some coffee. For a moment they sat in silence, stirring their drinks.
The Captain took a sip, then pointed at the woman: ''This is Simone Goldman, our Head of Intelligence.''
Introduced that way, Simone wordlessly switched on a pad computer, worked on it a bit and turned it around for Chan Li to read.
After a moment's confusion Chan understood: she was staring at her own personal file ... the one from General Xao's office! Translated to English ... She looked up in horror.
''It came from one of your communication satellites,'' Simone explained. ''Laser transmission, narrow beam, not encrypted, but aimed directly at us. Was repeated until we waved off.''
Chan swallowed. She felt a lump in her throat.
''Do you identify the signature?''
She looked closely. Under the text was a Mandarin sinogram, Xao's personal sign. ''General Xao's signature.''
''Yes, Lian Xao, Head of Chinese Intelligence. He sent us your file. Now, why would he do this?'' Simone continued.
Chan closed her eyes, took a deep breath. The first paragraph of the file contained all the authentication keywords for this is from headquarters and you can trust this message. Only Xao and she knew what words to use; this message had really come from him. The disclosure of her personal data could only mean one thing: she did not have to lie to these people anymore, about anything. Well, nearly anything ...
She nodded slowly.
''Tell me,'' the women ordered.
''General Xao is releasing me from his service.'' She looked up: ''I'm free to choose.''
''Good.'' Simone shoved the pad to the Captain, said: ''Your turn!'' got up and left.
For a while the two of them sat in silence, sipping their coffees. Then the Captain spoke up: ''So your name is Chan? Chan Li?''
''Yes, sir.'' Chan's eyes were down again, looking at the desk plate.
'''What does it mean?''
''My name? Chan means pretty, graceful, sir.''
''How fitting! Well, my name's Michael, Michael MacMillan. In Hebrew Michael means Who is like God?'' He laughed. ''Anyway, everybody calls me Mike.'' He smiled in a friendly way at her. ''I'm the Captain of this, well ... nutshell. You observed the election process, right?''
''Yes, sir.''
''Fine. Now, first of all, the 'Sir' is reserved for the bridge, and even then only when we are on duty. Besides that, just call me Mike, like the rest of the crew does.''
Eyes down, Chan did not reply.
''Chan,'' Mike said, gently. ''We are no monsters, no crackpots. Just some people who have joined up to make a vision come true. A very large vision, I must admit: we want to build a star drive and visit another solar system.'' He paused, then went on: ''And before we test that drive system, our assembled knowledge will be released into the public domain, distributed freely by an international body, the CERN. We have seen to that.''
She was still looking down, into her cup.
''You are aware of course that your government has chosen to launch a missile at us, a nuclear weapon, and we've answered in kind. From our point of view, we are quits now. No hard feelings on our side.''
''Then why did you force a sacrifice from my people? Me!'' Some anger showed in her voice.
''We needed to humiliate your leaders a bit. Shake them badly. So nobody will try another shot at us.'' Mike sighed. ''There is also a very practical reason. My wife is dead, and we were short one female.''
That made Chan look up. ''One female short - for what?'' She sounded distrustful.
''For our purpose, Chan, for our purpose: an interstellar voyage. Now, I want to give you some assurances, so you fully understand your position on board. Are you ready for this?'' The young woman nodded, feeling the lump again. ''Forget about the hostage part. If you want to leave us, you can go as early as the next supply run. In a week or so. Besides that you are free to move within the ship, provided you give me your word as a Chinese officer not to harm us.''
Surprised he looked directly at Mike now: ''You would trust my word?''
''Absolutely.''
''And if I really want to leave?''
''You may go.''
''So why would I want to stay? And help you?''
Now Mike smiled. ''Nothin' like a good challenge. You see, the demand for an educated hostage came from Simone; she's our valued eyes, ears and brains. She predicted that the Chinese intelligence service would use this chance to plant a spy on our ship. A very capable one.'' He pointed at the pad computer. ''And she was right, as usual. Your file tells us that you are not only a capable computer scientist, but an extraordinarily capable one. With a heavy emphasis on Mathematics.''
''And ... ?''
''What do you know about faster-than-light travel?''
''It doesn't exist in the real world. Only in Science Fiction.''
''Good. See, in Science Fiction there are basically three ways to cross interstellar distances. For one there is the wormhole version. Where you open an artificial wormhole or use a natural one and travel through it to its other end.''
''Like in that American movie - Interstellar.''
''Correct.'' Mike smiled at her. 'The second one is where you travel with warp speed, by entering some kind of subspace and pass the light-speed barrier in it. An example would be ...''
''Star Trek. Kirk, Picard and Janeway.''
''Exactly.'' Mike nodded. ''I see you know the main Science Fiction series.''
''And the third one,'' Chan said, ''would be a flight through a higher dimension where the light-speed limit does not exist and where you lose no time.''
''A jump through hyperspace in zero-time, right.''
Chan looked at him critically: ''So what is yours?''
''We use a fourth version. We fold space, puncture a hole through the touching walls and pass through it to the other side. Then unfold space again.''
The young woman laughed out: ''Fold space. Light-years of space.''
''Exactly. The whole process runs in nanoseconds, so the total travel time is: zero.'' Mike activated the pad again, tapped on it a moment, then put it back in front of Chan and pointed: ''You asked why you should stay and help us. Well, here is a challenge worth your while: that monster there is the central equation which describes how our space folder device actually folds space - I know, it sounds kind of silly, but that is what it really does: it bends the fabric of space-time.
''The formula is basically a modification of Burkhard Heim's quantum field theory. That sub-term there,'' he pointed, ''describes the dynamics of a tiny wormhole that is artificially created with the help of an immensely strong gravitational force and punctures the spacetime-walls. It may seem correct, but it must contain an error. Find it.'' That said, he stood and left the room.
Chan, now totally overwhelmed, leaned back and stared unbelievingly at the departing man, then at the pad in front of her. Understanding that she was sent on board as a spy for her country, to try to get her hands on the secrets, she first found her cover blown by her case officer - the almighty Xao himself - then got the group's deepest secret handed over just like that: the Captain had simply dropped it into her lap.
Chapter 85
Moon Orbit
Friday, 18.11.2016
&
nbsp; People had been coming and going, gotten coffee and food, but had trodden lightly around Chan and left her alone. Some kind soul had brought her more cappuccino, some candy bars and kept her water glass filled. Another had dropped a big scratchpad and a handful of felt-tipped pens on her table.
The young woman had registered all this just peripherally; she was deeply immersed in the complicated equations. Sure, she had come across some higher geometry during her mathematics classes at university, but this ...
Meanwhile sitting in the same place in her sixth hour, she had covered the table with paper sheets full of her handwriting, a mixture of sinograms, equations and English words.
Suddenly a plate filled with steaming pasta was placed in front of her, right on the paper sheet she was currently scribbling on, startling her back into reality. A bit upset she looked up, only to see a smiling Russian face.
''This is basic Italian heart attack food, Mai-Lin. Eat it, you'll need it.'' Alex grinned, pushed a fork into her hand then sat opposite her, a second plate waiting for him. He picked up his own fork and slowly twirled a few spaghetti on it, demonstrating how to do it the Italian way, put them into his mouth, twirled the next load.
Chan hesitated, on one hand being surprised by him addressing her as 'beautiful orchid', on the other admiring this man's care to comfort her by discreetly demonstrating how to use a fork in this situation. For a Chinese national, being used to chop sticks only, that was by no means an easy task. She watched for a moment, then took the fork and slowly imitated his actions. The first bite caused an explosion of her taste buds, and she looked up to the man in delight. ''This is delicious,'' she exclaimed, mouth full.
''Grandma Rosskov's recipe ...'' Alex grinned.
''Modified by ...''
''Guilty. But modified only a little,'' he lifted a finger. ''Some red wine to beef up the sauce, a few herbs, some sour cream. Ever had Italian food?''